


it's like time has stopped

by youngkang (misconceptionsof)



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Love at First Sight, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, alternate universe - figure skating, background minkey - Freeform, that's a tag i never thought i'd use but damn there's no other word for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misconceptionsof/pseuds/youngkang
Summary: Seeing your shy face made me instantly fall in love//Taemin doesn’t do the whole meeting a cute guy at an ice rink thing. He doesn’t do the meeting a cute guy anywhere thing. Taemin exclusively does the training thing. And yet here he is, itching to hold some guy’s hand in the middle of the day on a Friday while he’s not supposed to be anywhere near an ice rink anyway.
Relationships: Lee Jinki | Onew/Lee Taemin
Comments: 25
Kudos: 63
Collections: Winter of SHINee





	it's like time has stopped

**Author's Note:**

> Title from SHINee Your Number! Couldn't help myself.
> 
> I've written this for prompt #43 for Winter of SHINee: (shinee member 1) is an olympic figure skater who is on an extended break recovering from an injury. Back in his hometown, he tries skating again at an outdoor ice rink and nearly falls bc of his injury, but (shinee member 2) mistakes it as his being a newbie and offers to teach him. Dazed and tired (and maybe a little in love at first sight), he lets (shinee member 2) teach him. And then they spend his entire break being cute together until he recovers hehe
> 
> The only thing I know about figure skating is that I really enjoy it. I hope you enjoy having suspension of disbelief.

He takes a long, cold, inhale through his nose.

Ice has a distinct smell. Taemin’s always said this. It’s more than just cold, it’s all-consuming, addicting. An ice rink freezes his hands and his nose and his lungs, gets his body fueled on the power it takes to warm him up. Kibum has to listen to him wax poetic for two months, while Taemin lays in bed for the first time in his life, completely restless while his ankle heals.

His phone vibrates in his back pocket when he steps onto the ice, and he ignores it. That’s probably the seventh text message from Kibum that he’s ignoring, unless it’s from his mother, or his manager. He doesn’t check. He steadies his feet, wiggling his ankles a little bit.

He thinks maybe his left skate feels a little bit looser than it should be, but he’s hoping that the feeling is just anxiety. So, he moves slowly, because even if he’s an impatient workaholic, he’s not a masochist. Skating will come right back to him, because it has to.

He makes it halfway around the rink, wind starting to bristle his hair, and he thinks that it starts to feel normal on the ice again before his left ankle nearly gives way and he redirects _hard_ into the side of the rink.

“Woah! Are you okay?” He’s steadying his breath when he feels a light touch on his bicep along with the gentle voice.

And this is the thing: he’s a professional. He’s been skating since he’s learned how to walk. He’s in training for the god damn _Olympics_. The only reason he’s a _little_ wobbly on his feet is because of his stupid ankle giving in landing poorly on a stupid lutz, which he has done a billion times before anyway. So, his mind is a little occupied and he’s a little shaken up and worried, but he is _fine_.

Not that he’d tell _all_ of this to the stranger who tapped him on the shoulder but when he goes to explain, _hey, I’m actually a competent skater you can move along but thank you_ he looks over and his words die immediately in his throat. Because _dear lord_.

The man in front of him must be an angel or something. He is _beautiful_.

The genuine concern on his face is so endearing Taemin thinks he could just about cry. He wants to reassure him that he’s good at this, it’s his full-time job. He has a full-time job of being a talented figure skater, and is this guy impressed, and does he want to maybe go out and get a cup of coffee to warm their hands up—he just can’t make his stupid mouth work.

“Hey, let’s sit down,” the guy says, and his voice is like honey, and his eyes are like honey, and Taemin considers for a moment getting into songwriting like Jonghyun. Or honey-making, if that’s a job. Beekeeping?

Taemin’s doesn’t even register nodding, but he does. And the man, who must be about Kibum’s age, maybe a little older, decidedly hotter, slides his hand down to Taemin’s wrist to guide him to the opening of the rink so they can sit on the bench right outside. “I’m Jinki by the way.”

“Taemin,” he says. His phone vibrates in his pocket again, and Jinki eyes him.

“Rule one of skating: don’t text and drive.”

He could just about die.

When he checks his phone, on top of Kibum’s seven (all-caps) text messages, there’s one from his manager (a stern reminder to keep off his feet) and also a missed call from “Kibum’s Stupid Soccer Boyfriend,” that he’s decidedly not going to return, no offense to him.

It’s taken an army to keep Taemin off his feet. His doctor, his manager, and every friend he’s ever had, all popping in on his apartment in Seoul every day to make sure he hasn’t snuck out to the ice rink. They finally convinced him to visit home to rest up, where his parents, along with Kibum, have been instructed to keep a close eye on him, or breathe down his neck, whatever’s more accurate.

It’s torture.

“I think your skates are a little loose, that might be why you stumbled a little bit,” and Jinki kneels down to fix them. Taemin pulls his foot away gently.

“I can tie them. I didn’t realize they were so loose.”

Jinki’s smiling now as he stands up, taps his own blades against the ground to rid them of snow. Taemin’s phone vibrates in his hand, this time showing Kibum’s name and an awful picture of him on the screen. “You should take that, so it doesn’t bother you on the ice. I’ll be keeping an eye on you when you get back out.”

“Please do,” Taemin says, can feel his eyes glittering. They turn to stone when Jinki moves back onto the ice and he picks up Kibum’s call. “What do you want.”

“Where the hell are you?”

Taemin wouldn’t describe Kibum as overbearing. In general, Kibum is the one person in his life who secretly actually lets him get away with anything. But he is also the most persistent person Taemin has ever met. It’s technically Kibum’s job to keep a close eye on Taemin for the last few weeks of his bedrest, as prescribed by Taemin’s manager, and Kibum’s manager, and the entire International Skating Union, and it’s a job Kibum takes very seriously. Despite how annoying it is, Taemin knows he cares. So, you win some you lose some.

“I’m out,” he says. Jinki makes eye contact with him when he takes off around the rink, and Taemin nearly melts in his seat.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” Kibum says it under his breath, like he doesn’t even intend for Taemin to hear it. “You said you were going to be inside watching horror movies all day because you felt sick.”

“And you said you were going to leave me alone because _I’m enough of a horror myself_.”

“And I meant that,” Kibum pauses for a moment. He lets out a deep sigh. “It’s literally my job right now to take care of you. Aside from my love for you as a person, next weekend we have that youth thing. So even if I didn’t feel a moral, familial obligation to make sure you don’t fall off a cliff or something, I have a legal obligation.”

“You do not have a _legal_ obligation.”

“I’m pretty sure if you came back maimed in any way and couldn’t participate, your mom and the International Olympic Committee would sue me for my soul and everything I’ve ever owned.”

Taemin huffs. “You’re the most dramatic person I’ve ever met. And I’m not going to fall off a cliff. I’m on solid ground, thank you.”

“Solid, icy ground?”

“No,” Taemin breathes out, knows Kibum doesn’t believe him. It doesn’t matter. “Listen, Kibum. You deserve a day off. I’m basically healed already, and you’ve been watching me like every day since I got hurt. And I know you want to spend like _one_ day with your actual boyfriend for once instead of dealing with me.”

“I’m not _dealing_ with you,” Kibum says, which he knows is a lie too, which is fine. Taemin’s nothing if not a handful. “And how did you know that Minho was in town?”

The thing about Kibum is that he gets about as much time off as Taemin does. The two of them being medalists in the past two World Figure Skating Championships has them both in the running for representing South Korea in the upcoming Winter Olympics. Taemin’s injury is his longest vacation he’s had since before he started training professionally when they had both gotten out of high school, and he’s never known Kibum to get a break.

(Honestly how Kibum has managed to find the time to have a long-term boyfriend, one who doesn’t even figure skate, is beyond him.)

If anyone deserves time off, and time off that doesn’t involve supergluing Taemin to his mother’s couch and alternating the television between Project Runway and sports anime, it’s Kibum.

And the Minho part was easy. It didn’t even take that much convincing to have him drive down to Taemin’s hometown for the day and surprise him. He didn’t even have to offer to stay for dinner, (though he did end up offering), he was just on board immediately at the chance to surprise his boyfriend. That man is such a romantic it makes Taemin sick.

“You’ve been stuck here for two weeks. I asked him to come.”

Taemin doesn’t hear as much as he _feels_ Kibum purse his lips in contemplation. There’s a muffled noise on the other side, undoubtedly Kibum confirming with Minho that he was asked to come as part of Taemin’s scheme.

“When will you be home,” he says after a moment, voice flat. It’s not a question.

“Before dinner.”

“I need a time.”

Taemin looks up at the clocktower across the street from the ice rink. It’s almost noon. “Four.”

“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this.”

“I can. I’m very persuasive,” and Kibum is ever-appeasing, but Taemin doesn’t say that. He attempts to dampen the shit-eating grin he knows is evident in his voice.

“Be back home by three or I’m telling your mother. And if you hurt your ankle, I’m breaking your other one,” Kibum says, and immediately hangs up. Most of their conversations end like this.

He silences his phone then, stuffs it in his back pocket, and reties his laces so they’re tighter around his left ankle. He’s basically healed, there’s hardly any swelling anymore, it’s just the anxiety of getting over the injury.

Jinki comes around again just as Taemin’s coming off the bench, stops himself on the ledge with a smile that takes up his entire face, and Taemin all but forgets how to breathe.

“You ready?” Jinki extends his hand out, small and gloved, almost as small as his own, and Taemin takes it. “I can help you out.”

“Oh, do you skate a lot?” Taemin finds himself asking. There’s an opportunity here to impress him, show off to him, but he doesn’t manage to get the words out. He doesn’t want to talk about himself. He wants to learn everything there is to know about Jinki.

The sun is above them, shining past the clouds and warming the tops of their heads just a bit despite the wind and the ice and the snow. It’s brighter than it usually is this time of year, but it’s nothing compared to the way Jinki’s face lights up when he speaks, when he starts so skate backwards (slowly; it’s precious), leading Taemin along like he’s in baby’s first skating class.

“I’m just really getting good at it,” Jinki wiggles his feet on the ice, showing off. “Only started a couple of weeks ago when they opened the rink for the winter. I wanted to learn because I have a little cousin who wants to be a figure skater and I figured I could bond with her.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet,” Taemin finds himself saying, trying to focus on the words coming out of Jinki’s mouth and not just the way his eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles.

And Jinki _blushes_. Taemin feels the heat radiate off of him. It nearly has him tripping over himself again, overwhelmed. He doesn’t know when he stopped having control over his stupid feet, but he doesn’t think it’s the injury at fault.

“Are you okay?” Jinki asks, because of course he’s worried. He has a precious mix of the concern from before with a new, almost nervous smile. It’s so _charming._ “You were doing so well.”

Jinki is holding Taemin’s fingers in his little gloved hands, and Taemin’s afraid that if he opens his mouth, he’ll do something stupid like propose marriage or bring him home to meet his mom, but after a moment of unwavering eye contact, he breaks. “I’m good at skating, you know.”

“Oh,” Jinki says, smile not faltering. He draws out the syllable. Taemin blinks.

“Do you not believe me?” The accusation pushes its way out of him loudly, almost startling the poor man in front of him.

Jinki tries to purse his lips, smile still taking up his entire face. “I believe you,” he says. It is not convincing.

Taemin’s too shocked to respond. He laughs, jaw hanging open in awe. He starts skating again, unable to keep himself from laughing, and Jinki follows next to him, and they skate calmly for a little bit.

With every pass, Taemin puts more pressure on his left foot, determined to start skating the way he has for his entire life.

It would be easy, he thinks, if Jinki weren’t so charismatic. Like if Jinki weren’t next to him, hand extended like he’s waiting for Taemin to grab onto, like if Taemin didn’t want to grab on.

Ice skating has never ever been a recreational activity for him. It has always been very much a _sport_ , and Taemin’s always taken it very seriously. But right now, he’s here, his hand dangling by his side, right next to Jinki’s, he sees the relaxing nature of it, almost all of a sudden.

“So, are you from around here?” Jinki asks, more or less out of nowhere. He hasn’t relaxed his arm at all, still. “I haven’t seen you here before. If you say you’re so good at ice skating.”

“I am!” Taemin says, doesn’t do anything to prove it.

“Okay,” Jinki says, still smiling. It’s teasing without being condescending. Taemin doesn’t think Jinki could be condescending if he tried.

“I grew up here, but I haven’t been back in a while. Moved to Seoul,” Taemin says, staring at his feet. Even while he’s doing it, this thing he loves, he’s not all that motivated to talk about his job. “I’m sort of on vacation.”

Jinki doesn’t pry. Didn’t seem to be the type to anyway. “It’s weird visiting home after a long time, huh?”

“Very weird,” Taemin says, smiling. He can feel it on his face, huge and completely unintentional.

They talk about Taemin’s break, about how he’s going back to Seoul on Monday, about how Jinki had been planning on moving to Seoul, looking for an excuse to transition to the city. About how they’ve managed somehow to never meet in a small town like this one. It’s so very nice, and they skate slowly, not talking much.

Taemin keeps an eye on the time because it always passes so quickly when he skates. Somehow, it’s passed even quicker with Jinki.

He feels a little bit like he’s been put under a spell. Which is stupid. Kibum’s going to tell him how stupid it is later if he gets the balls to tell him about this when he gets home. Because Taemin doesn’t _do_ the whole _meeting a cute guy at an ice rink_ thing. He doesn’t do the _meeting a cute guy anywhere_ thing. Taemin exclusively does the _training_ thing. Everyone knows this—his manager has never had to worry about him getting distracted, and yet here he is, itching to hold some guy’s hand in the middle of the day on a Friday while he’s not supposed to be anywhere near an ice rink anyway.

They skate for a long while, because it’s really easy to, especially on a day like today that isn’t too cold that Taemin really feels it. Minutes stack up behind them as revolutions around the edge, and it’s easy to go on like that for hours and hours if he had the time to.

But they skate with a relative slowness, and Taemin, miraculously, doesn’t get the urge to show off. They talk about town gossip and Jinki’s little cousin and Jinki notes a couple of times just how well Taemin’s doing. He can’t help but flush. Says it’s the cold.

He almost makes the excuse to trip over himself so he can latch onto Jinki’s arm again.

“It’s 1:30. Everyone off the ice for Toddler Time,” rings out from the speakers.

The rink isn’t very full to begin with, but it clears out anyway back to where Taemin has his things on a bench. Before Taemin even has the chance to sit down, Jinki says, “do you like hot chocolate?”

Taemin looks back over at him, and Jinki has both hands close to his face, blowing heat into them and rubbing them together. “There’s a place across the street.”

He knows. Of course he knows. He used to spend cold winter evenings in there with Jongin and Kibum after training during high school, early mornings for a breakfast stop before showcases that they had to travel for. He grew up in the coffee shop as much as he grew up in the ice rink.

“Yeah, I know the place!” Taemin looks down to sit and take his skates off. “And I love hot chocolate.”

When they get in, Taemin goes to the front counter to order while Jinki finds a round table to sit at. It’s a cute little shop, a little remodeled since the last time Taemin’s been there. The counters are a different type of wood, and their menu options have changed a little bit. But it’s the same place, still warm and inviting. It’s not very crowded, but Taemin has to wait in line to reach the counter.

“Thank you for coming to—” Jonghyun looks up from his screen, notices Taemin and breaks into a smile. “ _I_ thought _you_ were on bed-rest.”

“That’s not a proper greeting.”

“I’m not about to be an accomplice for your great escape,” Jonghyun says, theatrical and lilting. Taemin scoffs at him.

“I’m basically fine. And I’m not on house arrest,” Taemin says, picking up a sugar packet and playing with it.

Jonghyun flits an eyebrow up. “Yeah? Where’s Kibum?”

“Soccer boyfriend’s in town.” Jonghyun nods, mouths _ahh_ , in the all-knowing way he does sometimes.

“Bribed him with Minho and then snuck out to hang out with little old me?” Jonghyun makes eyes at the athletic bag over Taemin’s shoulder. “Or to go ice skating?”

“Can I just have two of the big hot chocolates,” Taemin says, looking back over to where Jinki’s seated himself. “With mini-marshmallows and the stick thing.”

“Lee Taemin are you on a date right now?” Jonghyun says it a little too loudly, because of course he does, and Taemin turns back to glare at him. “Did you have an ice-skating date while you’re supposed to be on bed-rest? And dedicated to your craft or whatever?”

Taemin flushes. He has to stop doing that. “I’m not on a date. I just met him, and we came inside for hot chocolate.”

“Well. I’ve seen him in here sometimes. He’s cute,” Jonghyun says, extending his hand for Taemin’s cash. “If it doesn’t work out, get his number for me.”

“I hate you,” he says, reading the total on the screen in front of him, ends up leaving the change as a tip, as always. Jonghyun only works here seasonally while he’s back from music school on breaks. 

When Taemin gets back to the little table by the window, Jinki is swishing his feet back and forth on the tile with a little smile on his face. “What’re you smiling about?”

He sets down their mugs of hot chocolate, whip cream and chocolate shavings on top, mini marshmallows floating around, and a wafer stirring stick. Jinki gazes at it longingly.

“Do you want to know my favorite thing about skating?” Jinki puts on a sort of sideways smile when he looks up at him. Taemin briefly wonders how much he’s smiled today and if it’s going to do damage to the muscles in his face.

“Of course.”

“When you come off the ice, for a while, your legs still feel like you’re skating. Like when you come off a trampoline and your body still feels like it’s jumping. I just love that feeling. And I totally get why my cousin loves it so much.”

He manages to say, “yeah," in response.

The way Jinki describes things is so precious.

“It’s such a weird feeling. I feel like I have to waddle for like an hour. Like I’m walking on clouds.”

And then they’re talking again, about skating and about how Jinki likes the winter because he likes bundling up, and about how Taemin likes hot drinks the most. They talk about how Taemin likes to dance whenever he has free time because his older brother is a dancer, and about how Jinki’s tried but he thinks he’s too uncoordinated.

“You’re coordinated enough to ice skate,” Taemin says, scraping the chocolate off the bottom of his mug with the wafer cookie. “They’re really similar.”

Jinki laughs, it’s a chuckle, and it’s bubbling, and it’s contagious. “I’m _hardly_ coordinated enough to ice skate.”

“Well you seemed pretty coordinated out there,” he says, and they drop that topic the way they’ve dropped all the others. Talking to Jinki is so _easy_ because they just say things without much pressure to follow up too much. He asks questions, but for the most part he just accepts the things Taemin says, even when they don't make much sense. And they often don't.

And he’s so cute, Taemin thinks, and sometimes Jinki’s cheeks go pink when he talks about the things he likes. And he thinks he’d like to see it more, like to notice more things about Jinki. He doesn’t often get this urge to be with another person, hasn’t thought about much except training for years.

He doesn’t know if he’d have time, with his schedule. Maybe he’s going to have to ask Kibum about how he manages it. Not that he thinks necessarily Jinki would want the same.

Except, with the blush on his cheeks, maybe he would. Taemin’s not great at guessing this stuff.

Jinki lets out a belly laugh, deep and electrifying, and Taemin is moments away from taking out his camera to get a picture of it or something, when he looks at the clock, showing that it’s nearly three pm.

“Fuck.”

Jinki’s laugh trais off at the end, and his smile doesn’t dissipate at Taemin’s outburst, for which he’s grateful for. But he does tilt his head to the side sort of like a lost puppy, and Taemin has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from sighing audibly.

“You okay?”

Taemin manages to get out of his chair and start gathering his things, despite how much he wants to stay.

“I have to go,” he says, taking the soggy wafer out of the empty mug to bring with him. “It was really nice talking to you, though. We should do this again sometime,” and after the most meaningful look he can muster, he essentially books it out of the coffee shop and starts walking home.

It isn’t even until later, when he’s watching anime with Kibum and Minho after his mom goes to bed, when he’s telling them about it (sparing the details of the ice skating), that he realizes he’s an idiot.

“Did you even get his phone number?” Minho asks him, and he stops the motions of massaging his ankle to groan, barely drowning out Kibum’s laughter.

-

“Taemin, go get us coffee,” Kibum swings open the door to Taemin’s room, letting in blinding light. “Come on. Since you can walk now.”

Taemin groans, rolling around on his bed, caught in the covers. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the last one awake.”

“Isn’t that counterintuitive?” Taemin’s voice is muffled through his pillow, but he knows Kibum can understand him, so he doesn’t have to repeat himself.

“Maybe you’ll run into that Jinki guy,” he says, making his way back into the living room. This is the exact problem with Kibum: he knows exactly what Taemin wants to hear at all times and capitalizes on it.

So, Taemin goes to the god damned coffee shop at whatever o’clock in the morning, because his mom needs coffee, and so does his stupid best friend. There’s no line today because it’s a Saturday morning and everyone with a brain is still asleep, but Jonghyun is there again, grinning at him like a loon.

“What’s got you all excited this morning?” Taemin asks, too tired to be amused. He knew last night he should have gone to bed early. The next time Minho asks to play FIFA with him he’s just going to have to put his foot down.

“ _Someone_ got a guy’s number,” Jonghyun says, pulling a piece of napkin out of his apron pocket and sliding it across the counter to Taemin. And on little neat handwriting, after a phone number, is a message that reads: _how are we supposed to do this again sometime if you don’t have my number_.

“I thought it was for me, by the way,” Jonghyun continues, leaning his elbows against the cash register. “I told you to get his number for me if it didn’t work out and then you bolted. Which—why did you leave like that?”

“Kibum threatened to tell my mom I was skating if I wasn’t home by three,” Taemin says, not looking up from the napkin.

“That explains that,” Jonghyun smiles harder, Taemin can hear it in his voice. “Those two love to collaborate, huh?”

“Why do you think I’m _here_ right now? They wanted coffee. But they wanted _your_ coffee. Kibum bribed me by saying that Jinki might be around.” Jonghyun laughs, then.

“It’s not going to disappear if you look away, you know. You can even put it into your phone if you’re afraid you’re gonna lose it.” Jonghyun starts grabbing cups and brewing coffee. “Everyone want their usual?”

Taemin looks up at him, “yeah.”

“Man, you’re being so weird,” Jonghyun says, and when Taemin scoffs he continues. “Just be your normal little gremlin self. He clearly likes you. I’ve never in my life seen you act _nervous,_ let alone over a guy.”

Taemin huffs, exhausted. “He’s just so sweet and cute and charming and nice.”

Jonghyun hums.

“That’s the part where you’re supposed to tell me I’m also sweet and cute and charming and nice.”

“I’m bad at lying,” Jonghyun says, flicks his eyes over to meet Taemin’s to show there’s no malice in it. “I’m sure he finds you sweet and cute and charming and nice. And if he thinks you’re weird and annoying and a brat like the rest of us, and likes you anyway, that’s all the better.”

Taemin punches Jinki’s number into his phone. “Thanks, I guess.”

He sends a text: _hey it’s Taemin, Jonghyun gave me your note. wanna hang out before I go back to Seoul?_

By the time he’s finished drafting it, the drinks are done and in a little carrier.

“See? That wasn’t that hard,” Jonghyun says. Taemin’s phone buzzes in his hand almost before Jonghyun finishes talking, and there’s a message that reads _are you free tomorrow? ^^_

So maybe Jonghyun is right.

-

Jinki meets him at the ice rink on Sunday afternoon, and he barely had to lie to Kibum to get there. Mainly because Kibum had been giving him advice on what to say to him and how to act like a normal person, something Kibum does not fail to remind him is going to be impossible. He says the same thing Jonghyun did the day before—that Taemin is freaking out for no reason.

And it's not just that. Taemin usually has no problem being a persistent thorn in people's sides. He _relishes_ in it, almost. But Jinki seems very gentle, and sugar-sweet. It pulls on Taemin like a string. He wants to be sweet right back.

And then he sees Jinki again, and he’s still wearing cute little gloves, bundled up this time in a long black puffy jacket. It’s a bit colder than it has been the past couple of days, so the extra warmth makes sense, especially considering Jinki said he likes to be bundled up. But all Taemin can do for the next two hours is think about how cute Jinki looks. Any time he opens his mouth, it threatens to come out.

“So, what do you do?” Taemin asks him after a while of them talking about nothing, noticing the way Jinki’s hand is held out at an odd angle. He’s not sure if it’s an invitation to grab on or not. Taemin’s a little better on his feet since Friday, and Jinki's noticed, but he still sticks his arm out.

The sun is bright today despite the cold, and Taemin has to squint to look over at Jinki in some places around the rink. But when he gets a good look, his smile is almost as blinding.

“I went to school for music, and right now I mainly play the piano for radio broadcasts and stuff,” Jinki says, rubbing at the nape of his neck.

"So you do music for a living, then?" Taemin asks. He can feel how big his eyes are, doting on Jinki's words.

"Sort of. Doesn't pay much," he says. “Also I do piano lessons.”

“No way!” Taemin grabs onto Jinki’s wrist. “I play too.”

Jinki’s cheeks go pink at the touch. Taemin’s not wearing gloves, has never really needed to. Jinki’s gloved fingers find their way to envelop Taemin’s entire hand, maybe keeping them warm, maybe holding onto him. He doesn’t say anything, though, just continues on.

"Well you're going to have to show me sometime," Jinki says, looking directly ahead. Taemin can’t help but blush with him. He lets their fingers interlace with each other.

"I have a piano at my apartment back in the city," Taemin notices the way Jinki's fingers are just as small as his, wrapped up in his gloves. The way his thumb rubs back and forth on the back of Taemin's hand almost absentmindedly.

"I'll have to come hang out sometime, then."

“I’d like that.”

And they hold hands for a little bit, swinging their arms gently between them. Taemin feels his heart in his throat.

At one point, Jinki frowns and digs his phone out of his pocket with his other hand. The scramble is clumsy and adorable, and Taemin can’t help but smile at him.

“Hello?” Jinki starts skating at his normal speed again, lets the person at the other end of the call talk. “No way! I have to go see her! That’s amazing!”

Taemin blinks in anticipation, waiting for Jinki to get off the call. They talk for a couple of minutes, Jinki mainly asking clarifying questions, and Taemin's amused at the fraction of information being revealed to him. “Well?”

“My little cousin was invited to the city to be a part of some youth showcase on Friday! Isn’t that insane? There was some sort of last-minute cancellation.” Jinki starts leading them to the edge of the rink where they’d left their things. “I’m so sorry, I have to go. I wanna congratulate her.”

“Of course!” Taemin _feels_ his heart flutter at Jinki’s excitement, even if it means he has to go.

Taemin was just getting used to the warmth of Jinki’s hand on his, and neither of them let go when they leave the rink. Neither of them lets go until they have to sit and take their skates off on the benches.

Jonghyun was right, he is acting weird. This guy he hadn’t known before Friday is making him feel like someone with a high school sweetheart. He’s about to say something, maybe _actually_ ask him out on a date in Seoul. Or maybe offer to come back to his hometown soon to go skating or to the museum or to the movies. But Jinki’s gathering his things and stops almost abruptly to ask a question.

And this is something else Taemin’s noticed in the interactions he’s had with Jinki: he remembers things suddenly and asks questions quickly, like curiosity truly bubbles out of him.

“I never asked you what you do for a living.”

“That’s okay,” Taemin says, blinks, “I’m training to be an Olympic figure skater.”

“Oh,” Jinki says, draws out the sound. Taemin blinks. That’s familiar.

“Do you not believe me?” His face turns to fire, he can feel it.

“I believe you,” he says. That’s familiar as well. But before Taemin can really say anything, Jinki’s packed up all his things, and starts heading towards the parking lot. He raises his voice over the distance, smile deep in his face. “I’ll text you. We can meet up!”

Taemin’s more or less in shock on the bench, sits there watching Jinki waddle to his car and drive off before he walks across the street to the coffee shop and tells the story to Jonghyun, who is nearly in tears laughing over it.

-

They end up texting for the next full week, making rough plans to meet up when Jinki’s in Seoul for his little cousin’s showcase. On Monday, Taemin gets the okay from his doctor to start skating again, which means that Kibum is officially off his back, and back to being a normal friend with no _legal_ obligations over him.

It isn’t until Friday morning when he’s at their training studio with Kibum, and they’re talking over their ballet practice, that he realizes something.

“You’re so out of shape,” Kibum says, bending at the hip. “All those youth skaters tonight are going to be brutal if you can’t hit your Biellmann spin.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My Biellmann spin is perfect," Taemin bends at his hip as well, but for good measure, he makes a mental note to stretch out his hamstrings on the bar right after. "And we have the youth skater thing _tomorrow_ night.”

 _Jinki’s_ youth skater thing is tonight. And then Jinki is going to be in Seoul for the whole weekend, and they were going to get lunch on Saturday before Taemin has to go host _his_ youth skater thing. He’s been very careful not to call it a date, but he _very_ much would like for it to be.

Kibum comes back up, makes direct eye-contact with him. “I can’t believe even after all these years I _still_ have to be your calendar. I should get paid for this. The youth showcase is tonight, I promise you.”

Or, maybe, Kibum is right, as he usually is.

That night at the youth showcase, Taemin and Kibum show part of their routines that they’ve been preparing in case they get chosen for the upcoming Olympics, and then about ten kids in their early teen years do performances of their own. And Taemin has always loved to watch young talented kids do their thing.

A little girl with the last name Lee gets introduced, and the jumbotron shows her family in the bleachers, and Taemin purses his lips when he sees someone excited and handsome, who looks almost exactly like the sun.

After the showcase is over, Taemin gets a text message before he even leaves the building that says _wait up._

He turns around and Jinki is there, right behind him, out of breath and several feet above the rest of his family. He catches Taemin by the arm, and he’s not wearing gloves, and his fingers are freezing, but he’s smiling like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Hey,” Taemin says.

Jinki can hardly get the words out. “You’re training to be an Olympic figure skater.”

“I am.”

“Oh,” Jinki says, and he bumps his forehead against Taemin’s, and he laughs, and if Taemin could live inside the sound, he would.

**Author's Note:**

> This is almost entirely inspired that one video where Taemin is ranting to Jinki about some shit behind the camera and Jinki has stars in his eyes and keeps saying "ohh," if that weren't obvious.
> 
> Thank you to the Winter of SHINee mods for giving me two prompts! I hope I executed them well. This one should come out before the other, so check that one out when it does! Thank you to my friends who hyped me up for this!
> 
> LASTLY thank you to the person who submitted this prompt! I hope I did it justice. I wanted to make this as cheesy and sweet as possible. This prompt caught my eye immediately, and it seemed just perfect for Ontae. Taemin is so interesting to characterize and so hard to pin down but I hope I did him well!
> 
> Follow me @chwesbian on twitter if you're into that! Thank you for reading!


End file.
